Story #1: A Deeper Wound
Detective Sergeant Kenneth "Hutch" Hutchinson was used to having his hands full, but this was ridiculous. He was trying to make it up the steps to his back door with two paper grocery bags in each arm, and a smaller bag clenched between his teeth. He could hear his mother's scolding voice in the back of his mind, *Make two trips, Kenneth*, but as usual, he ignored her. He managed to turn the door knob, kick the door open, and then bump it shut with a hip once he was inside. With a sigh he dropped his burden in a heap on the kitchen table.
"Whew, made it in one trip".
As he started unpacking the bags, he noticed his partner standing with his back to him at the kitchen sink.
"Hey Starsk, how 'bout a hand here?"
No response.
"Starsky, you growin' roots over there? This stuff isn't gonna put itself away."
No response.
Starsky just stared into the sink, silent and still. The light coming through the window over the sink surrounded him like an aura, making him look like some sort of dark angel.
Hutch quietly walked across the kitchen, up behind his lover to peer over his shoulder, hoping to see what was so fascinating in the sink. What he saw made his heart skip a beat.
Starsky was standing with his right hand gripping the edge of the sink so hard that his knuckles were white. His left hand, held up in front of him, was covered in blood, which dripped into the sink. The droplets of blood formed macabre red swirls over the jagged shards of a broken glass. Dave Starsky stared unblinking at his hand, his eyes glassy and wide with panic.
Hutch moved to stand beside his partner, placing one hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently, to try to gain his attention. He felt him trembling, yet Starsky's eyes never left his bloody hand.
"Starsk, Hon, are you OK?.. What happened?" Hutch asked in a soft, soothing voice.
Still no response.
Hutch took the blood-streaked hand in his own, turning on the cold water to wash away the blood, trying to determine the extent of the injury and snap his partner out of his apparent trance. Once most of the blood was rinsed away, Hutch could see a small, yet deep, cut on Starsky's middle finger. He turned off the water and carefully wrapped the injured finger in a paper towel, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. Starsky's loud gasp got Hutch's attention, causing him to look up into the dark, rapidly blinking eyes of his friend.
"Babe, are you OK, can you hear me?"
Starsky was shaking more now, his breath ragged and raspy as he whispered, " 'utch?"
"Yeah, Darlin', I'm right here, Can you tell me what happened?" Hutch asked again as he led his very shaky partner to a kitchen chair. With one hand on the injured hand, the other arm wrapped around his waist, he gently lowered Starsky to the chair. Hutch sat in a matching chair, right beside him, never losing contact with the trembling man.
"I d-don't," he swallowed hard, eyes darting around the room, "..DAD!!!" Starsky shouted suddenly, trembling even more, his eyes wild, rapidly looking around the kitchen . He tried to stand, but Hutch restrained him as he yelled again, "DAD!!! Where are you?"
Hutch grasped Starsky by the chin, forcing him to look a him. He stared into the deep blue eyes and tried to impart a silent message of calmness.
"Starsk, I'm not sure what this is all about. It's more than a cut finger I'm sure, but you have to listen to me. Can you do that?"
Starsky, looking straight into his lover's baby blue eyes, nodded with a quick jerk of his head.
"OK, good boy. Do you know where you are?"
Hutch was now cupping a slightly bristly cheek with one hand, his thumb slowly tracing the eyebrow, while the other hand carded through the thick, dark, chocolate-colored curls. Starsky leaned into that touch and closed his eyes for a moment, letting the movement soothe and calm him. When he reopened his eyes, he looked calmer, more like himself. He nodded once again. "Kitchen?" he softly said, seemingly unsure.
"Kitchen, exactly. Are you back with me now, buddy?"
"Yeah." It was barely a whisper, but finally Starsky seemed to be making sense.
"OK, just relax a minute, everything's ok."
"OK, OK," Starsky repeated like a mantra. He slowly put his head on his folded arms, which rested on the table top. Hutch continued the slow gentle petting motions, as he whispered a stream of comforting words.
After a few minutes had passed, Starsky slowly sat upright again and looked at the worried face of his partner.
"Sorry," he whispered, with a shy sad smile on his lips.
"There's no need to be sorry, sweetie, can you tell me what happened?" Hutch urged as he once again took the injured hand in both of his own.
"I-It's really weird.....really, really weird."
"I wouldn't expect anything else, Gordo," Hutch said as he smiled for the first time since this strange episode began. He hoped a little levity would relax Starsky further.
Starsky laughed at that, with a snort that seemed to drain some of the tension from the room.
Starsky closed his eyes again, just for a moment, and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, he started to speak. "I was doin' the dishes," he began, "I dropped a glass in the sink and it shattered. I was picking up the broken pieces when I cut my finger.....this is where it gets weird. As soon as I looked at my finger, I remembered cutting that same finger when I was little....the day my dad died."
Starsky looked into Hutch's eyes and continued the story, speaking rapidly, like he had to get it all out at once. "I was nine years old. Every day I would sit on the stoop waitin' for my dad to come home, then I would run to meet him half way up the block. I remember sittin' there, reading a comic book, when I heard this noise, sounded kinda like firecrackers, then I heard someone scream, and the sound of screeching tires. I jumped up and ran toward the noise, but I tripped on an uneven section of sidewalk. I fell hard, but immediately got back on my feet and started running again, I don't know why, I just had to get there....wherever there was. When I ran around the corner, I saw him, Hutch, I saw him l-lying on the sidewalk. I knew it was him, my dad, he was face down, but I recognized his uniform, I recognized his hair," Starsky paused, reachin' up to tug on one of his own curls, "his hair was just like mine. I tried to get to him, I ran and ran, but someone grabbed me, I don't know who, another cop I think, He picked me up and held me like a baby against his chest. He turned around so I couldn't see my dad anymore. I was screaming, kicking and fighting; trying to get down, but he held on tighter. I-I couldn't see, Hutch, I couldn't see my dad anymore, I couldn't see what was happening to him. All I could see was over this cop's shoulder, back down the block toward my house. I saw my ma running up the side walk, but she ran right past us, I don't think she even saw me, I couldn't see where she went, but I could hear her screams......I-I can still hear her screams."
Hutch closed his eyes and whispered "Oh God, Babe" as he listened to the rest of this horrible tale, sliding closer to his love, wrapping his arm tighter around the trembling shoulders.
"I was fighting like a tiger, hitting, kicking and clawing at this guy. All'a the sudden I noticed my hand was bloody. My finger was cut in almost the same place it is now, I'd cut it when I tripped. I just froze, staring at the blood as it dripped off my hand and soaked into this guys uniform shirt." Starsky closed his eyes again, his whole body shuddered at these intense memories, "I just stopped fighting, went limp in his arms. I could hear the sirens, the screams, the cries......I c-couldn't see anything but my bloody hand."
Starsky's eyes were glistening with unshed tears as he looked into his lover's eyes, "I've never remembered any of that until today....just now....Oh God, Hutch, it was like it just happened all over again. It's been nearly 30 years, but it seems so fresh in my mind.....after all this time, I still miss him....will I ever stop missing him?"
All Hutch could think to do was pull him closer, so their foreheads touched, "I'm so sorry, babe, I wish I could have known him."
"Me too, he would have loved you!"
"You think so?"
"I do," Starsky said. "Ma says that I'm just like'im, and I love you"
"I love you too, Babe."
Their lips met in the softest of kisses. They remained there for several minutes, just holding each other. One giving strength, the other receiving it. Just the way it had always been.
"I need to get a bandage for that finger. Will you be ok here for a few minutes?"
Starsky nodded again.
Hutch returned to his side a scant few seconds later with a band-aid and a glass of water. He pressed the glass into Starsky's right hand and gently applied the band-aid to the injured left middle finger, finishing off the job with a sweet kiss to the boo-boo.
"Ya know Starsk, I think you'll always miss your dad. These feelings are so overwhelming right now because you just recalled this repressed memory, I know what that's like. That was a huge trauma for a small child to deal with; it's no wonder you shut it out. I know how much you treasure the memories of your dad. Don't let this new memory change that. He wouldn't want you to suffer. I'm sure of it."
This made Starsky smile for real. A smile that reached all the way to his eyes, making them twinkle for a moment, before they seemed to darken again.
"Hutch, what did you mean when you said 'I know what that's like'....you've had repressed memories?"
"Uhhhhh, nothing. I just meant that everyone has experienced tragedy, that's all."
"I don't think so babe, you seemed to be speaking about something very specific. Have you had something like that happen to you?"
"Not exactly....well, sort of....It was nothing really."
Starsky studied his serious blond partner for a minute, then quietly asked, "Tell me...please!...I feel like I am losin' it here, a few minutes ago I thought I was nine years old again for Christ's sake"
Hutch got lost in the pleading midnight blue eyes for a second, before giving in.
"Ok, Hon, I'll tell you." Hutch hesitated only a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts, "You remember a few months after we moved in here, I had the day off and you had to be in court all day?...I painted the guest room while you were gone?"
Starsky nodded.
"I started painting that morning and had one wall almost complete, the paint fumes were really strong.....and I panicked."
"Panicked, why, what happened?"
Hutch looked down at the table top. A shudder ran thru his body as he continued the story. "The paint smell was just like in the squad room.....that day."
It took Starsky a few minutes to catch on to what he was hearing. "That day?....OH! That day!"
"Yes," Hutch nodded. "The day you were shot....The day you died."
"Oh man, I forgot about the paint. We had to leave the squad room because it was being painted. That's why we were in the garage."
Hutch only nodded as Starsky reached up to run his fingers through the silky blond hair of his mate.
"When I realized what I was doing, that day in the bedroom, I found myself sitting on the ground in the back yard....I had dropped the paint brush and run out of the house, I didn't even remember doing that. I was sweating, shaking, my heart was pounding....It was like I was right back there again, ya know?...If I closed my eyes, I could see you there on the ground....your head was against the tire....blood everywhere," Hutch scrubbed his face with both hands. He was beginning to tremble in earnest now, just thinking about that horrible day in May.
"Hey, hey, calm down now....that's ancient history....I am alive and as ornery as ever...we are both alive, healthy and together, that's the most important thing, the together part, huh?"
Hutch lowered his hands, smiling a tender smile at this partner. "Yeah, that's the most important part."
"Especially when you consider we are both now hallucinatin'; nobody else would have us," Starsky chuckled.
Hutch laughed right out loud, putting both arms around his lover, leaning in for a kiss. The kiss was soothing and mellow. When Hutch pulled back, he laid his head on Starsky's shoulder. They sat that way for a long time, Hutch absently making swirls on Starsky's t-shirt covered chest.
"Do you realize what you're doing, Blintz?"
Hutch raised his head and looked at his partner."Huh? what do you mean, what am I doing?"
Starsky glanced down at the hand on his chest. "You're tracing the scars with your fingertip. Sometimes you do it just before you go to sleep, too. I just wondered if you were aware of it?"
"No, I didn't realize. Sorry," Hutch started to pull his hand away, but Starsky grabbed it, bringing it back to his chest.
"Don't, I like it....you, uh, know the scars as well as I do, don't you?"
"Know them? It's more than that. Most of the time I feel like my heart beats beneath them."
Starsky raised the hand he held to his lips and kissed each finger before looking up at Hutch.
"Feels that way to me, too."
"Are you gonna be ok now, Starsk?"
"Yeah, you?"
Hutch only nodded as he noticed the grocery bags still on the table.
"Ok, Gordo, lets put these groceries away and I'll make us some lunch. Anything you want, just name it".
"You are too good to me, Blintz," Starsky said softly as he started unpacking one of the paper bags.
Hutch walked over to the sink and started carefully removing the pieces of broken glass, placing them in the garbage. He looked over his shoulder and his eyes met those of his partner, friend, and the love of his life. The smile they shared spoke volumes. It said that no matter how deep the wound, they could always heal it together.
The end.